Page 30 of The Unexpected

Chloe leans back, suddenly serious. “Do you think you’re going to keep doing it? With your uncle, I mean? I mean, if he’s hot and you don’t feel like you’re crossing a line, then why not?”

I look into my mug. The truth is still too new to touch, but I don’t want to lie. “I don’t know. I mean, I want to because Hunter’s insane in bed, with an amazing physique. And girl, that man knows how to make you feel all ten inches, if you get what I mean.”

Chloe giggles and nods.

“Then it’s totally worth it. Go get it, girlfriend.”

I frown.

“But there’s the whole family thing, and the church thing, and the fact that if Andie ever found out, she’d literally combust. Also, I’m not sure what happens when my dad gets back. Does it just stop? Or do we go full-blown secret mode? It’s a lot.”

Chloe nods, absorbing every word. “You need a plan,” she says, suddenly all business. “And I want updates. I want a live feed. If you so much as blink in a sexy way, I want to know before it hits your Instagram.”

I smile, feeling lighter than I have in months. “Deal. But you know none of this is on my Insta. That’d be asking for it.”

Chloe stands, rinses her mug, and looks over her shoulder at me. “You’re right. But you’re a legend, girlfriend. Never forget it.”

I snort, following her out into the harsh light of the fitting rooms. The espresso is still burning a path down my throat, but the rest of me feels weirdly clean, like the secret has been scrubbed out of my bones by saying it aloud.

Yet I haven’t even told Chloe the hottest part - that not only am I hooking up with my uncle, but that I might hook-up in a threeway with him and our sexy pastor.

Say what?

Those words were so fucked up, and yet a hot thrill shoots through my secret parts at the thought, and I press my thighs together. I know I already have a rep among my friends as wild, unpredictable, and altogether saucy.

I guess they just didn’t realize how fucked-up I really am … and how fucked-up and crazy and hot things are about to get.

11

ARE WE REALLY DOING THIS?

Stella

The mansion feels emptier at night, even with two humans rattling around inside it. No background party noise, no cleaning crew, no faint echo of a TV or phone call. Just me and Hunter at the kitchen counter, a slab of marble so cold it burns my bare thighs when I hop onto the stool. Above us, the pendant light hangs like a surgical lamp, spotlighting open cartons of lo mein and sesame chicken and the two of us, side by side but each pretending we exist in a vacuum.

Chinese food doesn’t taste the same in an echo chamber. It tastes saltier, almost metallic, each bite underscored by the click of chopsticks against porcelain and the soft hiss of someone breathing in through their nose. Maybe it’s my imagination, but Hunter seems to eat like it’s a performance, every move slow and deliberate, like he’s in training for a contest I’m not allowed to watch.

I fidget with a crispy noodle, twisting it in my fingers until it crumbles into yellow dust. My stomach is full, but my mind is gnawing on itself.

Yet Hunter’s totally relaxed. He grins at me, pops a forkful of broccoli beef into his mouth, and leans back.

“So how was your day, sweetheart? Anything special happen?”

I smile, helping myself to a piece of crispy noodle.

“No, not really. Just worked. Chloe says hi, by the way.”

“Who’s Chloe?” he asks.

"My friend at the boutique.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“She knows me?”

I cock my head playfully. “Well, I’ve told her about you. Nothing bad, don’t worry, but yeah, she knows you’re my chaperone,” I fib.

That causes Hunter to relax a bit, but then he frowns.